


I'm Just Not Good With Roller Coasters

by Viridescent_Espionage



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fear of Heights, M/M, Oneshot, Other characters mentioned - Freeform, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-23
Updated: 2014-11-23
Packaged: 2018-02-26 19:01:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2662832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Viridescent_Espionage/pseuds/Viridescent_Espionage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If there's one thing Dean Winchester can say is certain, it's that nothing good ever comes out of getting ditched at an amusement park. Nothing. Ever. Unless there just so happens to be a good-looking (and slightly terrified) man sitting next to you on a ride he wasn't exactly prepared for. Sometimes that alleged "100%" can be lenient.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Just Not Good With Roller Coasters

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Still shaking off the rust from not having written anything for a year or so. Un-beta'd, so please, forgive the typos and high possibly of slight mischaracterization.

“Oh _fuck_.”

The metal bar of the railing was surprisingly warm underneath Dean’s cold, calloused hands as an attendant secured the restraints. A faint shade of red burned at the tips of his ears, his face slightly numb from the cold of the late November air, and visible layer of blondish-brown scruff on his face hid the wind-induced flush on his cheeks. He turned his head to the right.

“You okay, man?”

The passenger adjacent to him glanced sideways, giving the Winchester a brief view of the bluest eyes he had probably ever seen. The man was shorter than him, even sitting down, by what Dean guessed was by a few inches or so. His hair was a dark shade that glowed a reddish-brown in the reflection of the evening sun, locks sticking out in every which way as if the guy had walked right through a tornado. A pale face with a shadow of a beard contrasted well with the dusting on blush trailing from his ears to his cheekbones to pink lips, muted with a blue tinge. Dean was suddenly glad that the heavy restraints for the ride were exclusively over the legs, or he may not have gotten the opportunity to get such a detailed look of the man. Not that he would admit that.

“A-Ah, I’m just...” The man swallowed, his voice carrying an unsteady tone that Dean couldn't distinguish the actual pitch of, “Not good, with-,” The metal cart hit a bolt in the track as it began to move, a loud clicking noise and a cringe breaking his sentence, “W-With roller coasters. Or heights, I suppose, for that matter.”

Dean paused, watching sympathetically as the cart clicked once more, the man flinching with a soft whimper that was barely audible over the screaming of the people in the cart in front of them. He remembered when his younger brother, Sam, was terrified of these things. Now, however, the sasquatch was somewhere on the other side of the park with a group of college friends. Ditched him right in the middle of the line, in fact, as Dean recalled.

_(“Oh, hey Charlie! What are you doing here?”_

_“I could ask you the same thing, dork! Didn’t know you and your brother were in town.”_

_“Yeah, yeah. We just came down from Bobby’s.”_

_“Heard there’s a bar here. Live entertainment. Want to chat for a little?”_

_“Well, Dean and I were just gonna…”_

_“He’ll be fine with it, man! Amelia and Jess and everyone else are here still waiting for me. Come on!”)_

“What’s your name, man?” Dean asked, shaking himself from his thoughts and throwing an absent look towards the top of the coaster, slowly approaching.

“Castiel.” He replied, shakily, knuckled turning white from the sheer force of how tight he was grasping onto the rails. “Although, m-many of my comrades and relatives have taken-,” another click and a flinch. His breathing was audible, hitching in ways that should have been painful. “… Have taken to referring to me as ‘Cas’.”

“Alright then, Cas,” Dean offered a comforting smile, “I take it ‘ya didn’t come here for the fun of it, then?”

“I have…” Castiel inhaled deeply, tugging the hem of his grey jumper sleeves up to his knuckles, “I-I happen to have been dragged along here with my… multitude of brothers and sisters. They managed to t-trick me into entering this ride through the wrong line, and then abandoned me. M-Mostly, this is my brother Gabriel’s doing. He can be…” His fingers were a sickly pale, shivering in what could have been either the cold, or from fear. Probably both. “Very deceitful.”

“Huh,” Dean watched Castiel from the corner of his eye, feeling a pang of guilt watching the guy shake in his own clothes, “He sounds kinda like a dick.”

“He m-means well.” Castiel muttered, those bright blue iris’ cut off from sight as he squeezed his eyes shut. His thin fingers fumbled around the thin rail on the topside of the restraints, unable to grasp the slick surface. "A-Although I cannot admit to enjoying th-th-this ridicule. Being the youngest in a family of nine children is not... all too pleasant."

There was a moment of silence before Dean exhaled thoughtfully. The cart hit another turn, three yards away from the first climb.

“ _Nine kids_? Wow man I-," Dean physically grimaced as he heard another whimper, the cart's angle shifting slightly as they began the first ascent. "Okay, look man,” he said, “No offense, but you look like you’re about to piss yourself. Just- ah, shit. J-Just don’t get the wrong idea, dude.”

Reaching over the lap harness, Dean put his hand over Castiel's. The shaking was already pretty fucking ridiculous, but the fact that it felt like he'd just plunged his hand into the god damn Arctic Ocean was worse. Dean felt a brief moment of uncertainty from Castiel before the shorter man fumbled his fingers, only to get a better grip on Dean's hand. Dean ran his thumb over Castiel's knuckles, feeling slightly relieved when he heard Castiel sigh quietly in response.

Dean didn't even hear so much as another whimper from Castiel for the rest of the ride.

\- - - - - - - - - -

It was only about a minute later when the ride ended, the metal bar lifting itself from the cart it slowed to a stop. Dean felt Castiel release his leather jacket, and managed to get them both out of the contraption and at the front of the ride in record time.

“Thank you- ah…?”

“Dean. Dean Winchester.”

“Thank you, Dean Winchester.” Castiel said, nodding his head.

“S’No problem man.” Dean shoved his hands in his pockets, not willing to admit it, but missing the feeling of contact. “Where’s the rest of your group, Cas?”

The two of them scanned the entrance of the ride for a moment, skimming over the thousands of faces and figures passing them by, but to no avail.

“I do not see them.” Castiel sighed, long, slender fingers that were trembling just a moment ago steadily reaching into his pocket to retrieve his phone. He dialed a few buttons, lifting the receiver up to his ear, and frowned. “There does not appear to be decent cellular service around this general vicinity, either.”

Dean pulled his phone out of his pocket. Castiel was right.

“Well, Cas, I don’t see why the two of us can have fun without those asshats,” Dean offered.

“Oh, I…” Castiel paused, a warm smile gracing his features. He squeezed Dean's hand softly, who hadn't realize that they were still connected.

“That would be nice, Dean.”


End file.
